


The Veracity of Nightmares

by russianwinter013



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007), Transformers: Prime, Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Angst, Heavy gore, Insanity, Mental Instability, Multi, Tentative Romances
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 02:05:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4728701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/russianwinter013/pseuds/russianwinter013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were not like anything the world had seen. They were...different, and oh so unusual. They brought nothing but destruction and horror upon the quaint little world, and they would not be delayed in their mission: protect and serve, punish and enslave. They cared for nothing but themselves. So what made them leave the vast confines of their home? What brought them to Earth?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beauty in Destruction

**Author's Note:**

> This is a dark fic. Be prepared for gore, angst, insanity, and horror. There may be romance as well, but with me, it's not usually a good thing.

The world was broken. Oh, so broken. There was nothing left, not even the slightest fragment of what had made up such a small and insignificant planet. Hope was long gone, and nothing but shriveled and worthless despair was felt by the survivors. Lies were ever present, staining the once sacred and peaceful land with the poisoned presence of the venomous corruption known as deception. One measly little question could not help but form in their minds: how could it have come to this?

He stood there; his face revealed nothing except grim realization. A hot, nearly unbearable wind gnawed at his tattered clothing, pulling the sweat-soaked and stained industrialized fabric from his body in a mere mockery of a relief before releasing it and slapping it against his aching body. The dying rays of the fading sun glinted off of the massive sword kept carefully in the bloodstained sheathe on his back, and the marble and wooden handle, one that was embossed with many ancient symbols of his kind, gleamed with dark satisfaction and power.

His breathing was ragged, hoarse and uneven as the short gasps rattled throughout his overheated body. He could feel the damp and nearly scorching warmth moving in its gradual, timed pace down his back, and he could taste the lingering presence of iron on his dry tongue and all around the cavern of his parched mouth. The faint and cautionary burn of the gashes on his hands, arms, and sides warned him of possible infection, but he cared little. With the world destroyed in such a way, why would he ever care or possess the measly and insignificant time to heal the wounds? His body was strong; he would survive, no matter the possibility of death for his comrades. Truth be told, he possessed little concern for the outcome of the others. His kind was powerful, and they did not give up easily, despite the obvious altercations to their bodies and their superiority to the small and weak race that inhabited this  _disgusting_ planet.

A deep and endless glare swept over the land, one that absorbed the dying light and only made those piercing eyes darker. The field had once been beautiful, in a sordid sort of way, before the satisfying massacre. There had been a high abundance of vegetation, more than the animate and mobile life, the organic creatures that had produced the most irritating sounds and went on with their day irritating all around them. A variety of sickeningly bright colors had been spread throughout the vast expanse of formerly luscious land, ranging from a pale and creamy white to the deepest and richest hues of crimson and azure. The wildlife that had occupied the territory had been varied in species and abilities. It was such a shame, really, that they were no more. He had come to favor a select few, the...carnivores, he believed they were called. How ruthless and callous they had been, tearing into the weak and thin flesh of their prey with no doubt that they would soon be taken in and broken down by the unrelenting acids that resided in their vast stomachs.

They were so similar to his kind. It almost made him laugh.

It was such a shame that he was not capable of such a thing. He wondered about the sensation daily, but constantly deemed it illogical and a waste of poorly given time. His comrades had done it, smile or laugh, that is, and if he tried it the action made all of those around him tremble and stare in fright.

For even though he could not smile or laugh, he could smirk. And his smirks made the mighty earth quake in terror and even the coldest of beings look away in poorly veiled agitation.

Oh, well. It was a futile attempt anyways. There was no point; the chance had long since drifted away, like the last and hoarse breaths of the man he had fought earlier...

...the one who had foolishly  _dared_ to try and harm  _him._ Oh, how could they stand being so mindless and savage? He could easily recall the shocked stare he had given him when his sword had impaled his broad but poorly muscled chest. He could vividly recall his scream of agony as the poison had ripped through his shriveled and  _organic_ veins, the way the bone and tendons and muscle had snapped as he had smirked and twisted his gore-encrusted weapon deep through.

That man was at his feet now, his corpse already beginning the horrible decaying process this wretched species went through.

Disgusting.

A dark snarl would have erupted from his chest, had his throat not been on fire with the ashes he had inhaled in rather large quantities earlier during the battle. It was not the worst thing that could have happened to him. He had been through far worse, both by the hands of his kind and his enemies. He had the scars and fragmented mind to prove such a thing. But it was far more likely that his kind had less sanity than any other race that had visited this horrid planet.

The faintest breath escaped him, his breathing having died down to a meagre and insignificant process that would not assist him in any way at the moment; he could recall how his comrades had wondered if he had forgotten how to breathe. What fools they had been. He turned from the scene of morose horror and made his way through the ravaged field, his anaesthetized mind and body unresponsive to the way the bones crunched beneath his feet or the faint squelch of bodily fluids from the reckless and former inhabitants of the area that had attacked them. It was clear that the results were unappealing to  _their_  kind, but they did little to affect the viewpoints and beliefs of  _his_  kind. They had not seemed to grasp the fact that once they set their minds to do something, nothing, not even their delicious screams of agony or their infuriating and nauseating pleas, could stop them. They just could not accept that this had merely been an act of sheer and undivided boredom, a means to alleviate their souls of the shroud of mediocre tedium that had plagued them so desperately.

They found little feeling within them to care for the destruction of this pathetic little sector. He could recall the frenzied violence that had blazed in his companions' dark and burning gazes, the morbid satisfaction in others, and the dark silence that had veiled some. There were the ones that had benefited from such a relief and the ones whose minds were broken, either for the first time or even more than they already were, by such inane horrors. He had no idea where they were now; they most likely had returned to one of their many bases. There was no doubt that their High Commander was reprimanding them for their actions, even though he knew that the probability that he was just doing it for the sake of seeming strong and righteous was extremely high.

There was a faint flash in the corner of his peripheral vision, ever so faint, so similar to the charred sun roaring above him reflecting off of his armored limbs. A faint rumble sounded, originating from deep inside his chest. The irritation that had vanished those few moments ago reappeared, and he let out a deep and ragged sigh. Why did these idiotic creatures never  _learn?_

Heavy weight settled on his cloaked shoulder, and in a second he had whipped around with fanged teeth bared and dark eyes blazing, powerful hands rising to pin his irritator against a massive and jagged rock that was quickly relieved of the load it held...a load that happened to be a pile of corpses covered in half-rotted flesh. The bloodstained sword was unsheathed and pressed dangerously close against his aggravator's throat, enough to draw the slightest bit of blood from beneath the war-hardened flesh.

Two pale and blazing eyes glared back at him, their nearly crystalline depths filled to the brim with emotions that flashed through them so fast one would deem it nearly impossible to decipher each and every one. The full lips of the prey were pulled back, baring gleaming white teeth and a forked tongue that flicked out as its owner hissed at him.

He gave his own rumbling snarl, pressing even closer as his enormous weapon began to carve its way into the throat of the other male, the venom starting its treacherous path through the restrained body. The attacker growled, and then razor-like fangs tore into the swordsman's fabric-covered arms, rerouting the poison back to its owner. The larger man narrowed his dark and bottomless eyes, glaring down at the other as the welcome fire tore through his limbs. A shudder ran through the other as delight tore its way through both of them.

There was barely any time to register the fact that both of them were moving in a whirlpool of entangled limbs and fangs and claws. The sounds of shredding flesh and howls and snarls of pain echoed throughout the decimated battlefield.

Breaths that were not needed heaved throughout the now scalding hot bodies. Dark eyes met pale, and tongues traced over sanguinary teeth. The smaller man nodded, pale eyes flashing, to his mate.

_It is time._

_We are needed._

_The end is nigh._

They rose.

Armored feet made no sound, nor did their labored breathing, which was all but a faint whisper in the broken and stained winds roaring around them.

The world did not dare look them in the eye.


	2. Dark and Unyielding Pleasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Gore and Horror.
> 
> As stated before, this is not a light-hearted story. Rated M for a reason, with more than enough gore, insanity, and other things. Do not read if this affects you negatively in any way.

It was cold. Oh, so cold. There was little sense in how cold it was. The horrid beast that was the icy storm pierced them, striking through their supposedly indestructible flesh with a dark and poisoned fervor.

He watched as his breath crystallized before him…those strange, bizarrely shaped crystals that were made from something so insignificant. It made him wonder…how? How could something so awe-inspiring come from something that was considered so  _useless_  and unimportant? His kind did not need to breathe, not as much as this wretched species that was quickly being wiped out during the skirmishes that relieved them of their boredom or by their mindless attacks that seemed to grow in size, as if they were all being controlled by one mind that only had one goal in mind: fight or die. But then again, his kind did not need to breathe, at least, not  _this_  type of air.

No.

They were used to a much darker, much more  _ruthless_  taste.

Their atmosphere, their now broken and diseased and destroyed atmosphere, one that had been destroyed by their endless fighting that had gone on for hundreds to near thousands of centuries, was not one to be aggravated. The ancient brew of millions of toxic chemical agents that his kind was immune to would terminate this moribund race in an instant; the thick and cloying toxins would char and tear into the slick mucous lining of their throats to extrapolate all of the moisture needed to keep their respiratory systems online. One might wonder how he knew such a thing, but he had made it his priority to study this nauseating species in order to develop and test new chemical warfare agents whenever he could not test them on his so-called comrades and associates, or at least when his commander restricted him from doing so. Not out of fear for his soldiers, no, his commander was known for his stone-cold heart and ruthless nature, but out of annoyance at having to look at fighters who were missing a limb or an eye or had faces that were covered in infected rashes or patches of charred and broken flesh. All of the injuries -though he would not call them that...something more along the line of  _unfortunate accidents_ \- were more often than not caused by him, who was always grinning as he inflicted such  _supposedly_  horrid wounds.

It was not like he cared what happened to the organics. No one from his world ever did. They were merely an inconsequential, horrible, and all-together useless race, one that was all of those factors so much that he and the other scientists often wondered why they had been created in the first place, if not for the sole purpose of conquering or destroying with a ruthless iron hand. He had not even wanted to come to this wretched and poor planet anyway. He knew, however, not to question the orders of his leader; that was something that  _everyone_ knew not to do unless they somehow desired everlasting torture at the hands of the feared medic, who was known to be a very powerful sadist and masochist, or to be terminated on the spot by the dark and horrid power that was their leader. No one he knew was that idiotic, except for those few unfortunate souls, people he was glad were gone from this world; they had been a burden anyways. To challenge the power and authority of their leader was such an idiotic and suicidal risk, for his commander would not hesitate to unsheathe his widely known and feared sword and use it to dismember his body before he would even know what had happened.

He knew what others thought of him. He knew the whispers that they did not bother to conceal as he passed.

_There is enough insanity concealing this place already, yet he seems to only add to said emotion. Is it really better with him here, or should we terminate him like we did the last?_

More often than not, if his kind found one to be too far gone, mentally or physically, or not promising enough in their achievements, they would, eventually, hunt that person down and terminate them in the most brutal way possible. Their methods were harsh and unrelenting, and depending on the offender, the length of their punishment was founded upon that. They had even gone so far as to form a group to carry out their actions, serving out plentiful helpings of revenge and punishment for those who dare go against the word of their leader.

He knew that people would question his reasoning, and he could not blame them. His reputation was strained, as well as his social abilities. For all they knew, he could have been a complete sociopath or a being who was completely at ease with those around him. Truth be told, he was not so sure which one he was.

There was so much more to this supposedly righteous group than people first believed. No one ever knew who they where and what they did to them until it was too late...

...it was that single, dreaded moment when terror filled their souls, twisting and writhing like a maniacally pleased beast bathing in the blood of its prey, the steaming and fresh liquid coating every visible part as the insane and sadistic hunger made them writhe in delighted pleasure. The heat would run through their veins, an acidic fire that was welcomed with open arms to invite the aching and the agony that was desired so wantonly.

A shudder of deranged delight tore through his body, the welcome monstrosity roaring around him in the form of flames and charred bodies and flesh, as he ceased his infuriating pacing and leaned against the ash-coated and jagged rock near him. Darkness blocked out the world around him, its thick and icy tendrils gradually piercing the once protective shell that had formed itself around the sphere of what little sanity he had left, and he was subjected to the beautiful horrors of his mind.

_The subject of the experiment was strapped down on the lab table beneath him, perspiration staining the flawless skin and slithering its deceitful way down into the crevices of battle-scarred flesh that marred the body of the terrified being. The widened eyes tracked the moves of their tormentor, dreading what was to come._

_The scientist deliberately disregarded all of the inane and infuriating and pleasing cries the prey made, feeling the pleasure burning through him mercilessly. He knew his teeth were bared in a vicious grin, the elongated weapons coated in his signature poison, one that many knew well for its horrid affects. But he favored his toxins and chemical agents far more than a mere blade or barbed noose._

_He was staring at him, that delicious fear ever so present in those watery and unfocused depths that would soon loose their weakening light._

_The cold and cruel, dangerously sadistic grin widened even more. Oh, this would be so much fun..._

_The prey gave a satisfying scream as his fangs tore through the once protective and hardened flesh, the poison rushing from the weapons writhing in delight as it tore through the veins and shriveled the arteries with an audible hiss. Eyes widened even more as the restrained offender arched off of the cold and unyielding metal lab table, that delicious fluid known as their lifeblood welling up and overflowing down onto the floor with a hiss as feral as the rabid organic beasts they had come to know during their stay on this horrific planet._

_The laugh that came from him was heart-stopping, cold and ruthless enough to make even the strongest of beings crumble like the disintegrating and once imposing rock formations that had been eroded by elongated periods of time..._

_The merciless beast known as thunder roared above him, mocking the restrained prey with a coldhearted and emotionless eye as it declared its everlasting power to the measly world beneath it, the warning ever present as the monster dared them to challenge its authority._

_The slick rainwater poured through the insubstantial roof hanging over them, piercing their bloodstained flesh with an unerring accuracy to chill them to their very core. The ice tore through the defenses the infuriatingly worthy warmth had barricaded itself in, striking with a ruthless force that made the now weakened protector crumble beneath the unyielding and taloned grasp. It would never make it now..._

He was jarred out of his pleasing fantasy when a cool hand rested gently against his own. Bottomless eyes shot open, blazing in denied lust and frenzied hunger and rage as they fixed with an unerring accuracy onto the being who would dare interrupt him.

Pale and clouded eyes stared at him, their sightless depths somehow able to muster the strength to force themselves in the right direction. The wandering thoughts and mind reigned in to form a tight, unbreakable coil, and focus fixed on his mate.

Beside him the overwhelming power of his guardian stood, clear and ever present warnings radiating off of the enormous frame. Amber eyes burned with a manic and hungered fervor, the boiling and churning emotions softening only the slightest bit in the presence of those he was supposed to and ordered to protect.

The arousal that had formed during his nightmare like fantasy vanished, curling in on itself as it moaned and withered and died.

They nodded at each other, aware of their summoning.

_It is time._

_We will fight._

_And we will prevail._

**Author's Note:**

> This had started out as part of my Creative Writing exam at school. Look what it turned into! :)


End file.
